


The God and his Whore

by Lyrae_Immortalis, mrgoldsdearie



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Blood, Dom/sub Play, Humiliation, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Rimming, Rough Sex, Smut, Spanking, Violence, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 18:47:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9838733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrae_Immortalis/pseuds/Lyrae_Immortalis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrgoldsdearie/pseuds/mrgoldsdearie
Summary: Oswald returns home in a fit of rage and Edward helps him explore his anger in a sexual game.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the completions to our unfinished fic pass, which you can find in its original form here. All changes have been made with the approval of everyone. Please let us know what you think. This story might not before everyone, so please really take the warnings in the rating section into consideration. They are not there just for looks. Happy reading!

Oswald Cobblepot storms through the door of the Van Dahl estate, barking demands to his servants. “Olga, make me a drink!”, he orders, even though his loyal maid is nowhere in sight. “Olga!”, the Mayor screeches at the top of his lungs, face searing red.

He hasn’t had a particularly successful day in the office at City Hall and intends to drink some of his ferocity away, plotting out vengeance to those who’s wronged him.

“Olga!” Oswald calls out one last time before shuffling off to the kitchen, intent on getting his own drink, muttering under his breath as he stumbles into the room. “Useless, the lot of them,” he snarls.

How dare anyone think they’d be able to gain the upper hand over him. He rules over both the underworld and the surface above, and he isn't someone to be trifled with. They will pay for their insolence, one way or the other, he would make sure of it. He didn’t get to where he is by letting anyone step all over him. He’s sent many people to an early grave for trying.

Oswald staggers to the refrigerator and pulls out a chilled bottle of wine, struggling to gain entry to its intoxicating substance. With a growl of frustration, he slams the bottom of the bottle on the bench beside him. “Fuck!”, he wearily breathes, face twisted into a livid grimace. Would nothing go right today?

“Ahem,” Edward Nygma clears his throat.

“What?” Oswald snaps turning to see his Chief of Staff and beloved partner leaning casually against the kitchen counter. Oswald’s gazes soften, just slightly.

“Bad day?” Edward asks with humor edging his tone.

The whimsy in Edward’s voice wasn’t something Oswald found amusing, not in the slightest. He rolls his eyes and turns away from Edward so he could attempt to open the wine bottle again. Extended arms suddenly snake around Oswald and his body stiffens, rage still surging through his veins.

Edward is conscious enough to know if he pushes the wrong buttons that Oswald will not hesitate to elbow him or shove him out of the way, but he takes his chances to help open the bottle anyway. Oswald will never get it open if he keeps going on like this. “Calmly,” Edward says plainly, popping the top off simply and easily. He slides his arms away but remains close behind the Penguin.

Oswald huffs, pouring himself a glass and chugs it in an instant.

“Thirsty too, I see.” Even though the thought of getting elbowed rears in the back of his mind, Edward takes another chance and reaches around Oswald to refill his glass. “Wanna talk about it?”, he asks, resting the bottle back on the counter.

“Does it look like I want to talk about it, Ed?” He gulps down the wine.

“I thought maybe it would help to talk.” He rests his hands on the Penguin’s shoulders, massaging away his tension.

“Don’t touch me, Ed!”, Oswald snaps, slamming the glass on the counter, breaking the stem.

Edward raises his hands and steps back. He hasn’t seen Oswald act like this in quite a while. Usually, the Penguin kept a tight grip on his composure but any semblance of control he may have had is currently lost as he was engulfed in a burning wrath. “I’m sorry Oswald, I only meant–”

“I don’t need you pitying me—” Oswald scolds out his words as he shakes the stem of the shattered glass in the other's direction— “or trying to change what I’m feeling.” His eyes darken with every word he spits out. “Keep your damn hands to yourself and be silent. I have little patience for you right now, Ed.” He discards the sharp piece of glass, throwing it onto the countertop before reaching up into the cupboard for another cup.

Edward’s heart drops for a moment, watching Oswald’s shaky hand grip the cup and pour a third glass. He should really tell Oswald it’s enough and be bold about it, but he can't find it within himself to speak. Maybe Oswald truly needs this anger at this time.

Oswald’s head is bowed and he stares at the counter, his back turned away from Edward. When he’s silent after these sort of outbursts it usually means he wants to apologize, but Oswald can’t muster up enough willpower to do so. Not yet anyway.

“Oswald,” Edward starts solely. “I understand that you…”

“Leave,” Oswald bites back, cutting off his boyfriend's train of thought. He swivels to stare directly into Edward's eyes, his own eyes blazing with fire behind them, and stares up at his Chief of Staff with an arousing dominance that Edward can't ignore.

The Riddler gazes back, head tipped to the right, mind heaving with endless thoughts. What could have happened to Oswald to leave him this upset? Could he have done something to hurt his lover and not notice? Is there a way to get Oswald to talk about it? Edward comes to the conclusion that it’s time to play with the Penguin to help him express himself more freely— or, if that doesn't work, at least he can get under Oswald's skin since he’s deciding to be fucking rude.

“No,” Edward says quietly, openly disobeying the Mayor of Gotham.

“What?” Oswald turns to Edward. He’s usually more compliant when Oswald needs space.

Edward’s nostrils flare and he adjusts his glasses. “I want you to make me leave,” he grumbles through his teeth. Since the little flightless bird is being nasty, he can return the favor.

“I did—” he cocked his head slightly to the right, squinting at his Chief of Staff— “you’re just not listening.”

Edward takes the glass from him and drinks the remainder of the wine, slamming it down just as hard as Oswald did before, but he doesn’t crack the glass. He stands in front of Oswald, shoulder back, chest broad. If Oswald won’t talk to him and relieve his frustrations freely, then he’s gonna make him. “Get me to leave, Oswald.” He digs his finger in his chest.

Oswald looks down at the finger that’s digging painfully into his rib cage then back up at Edward, clenching his jaw. “How dare you!” He slaps Edward's hands away before shoving a firm hand into his chest, forcing the Riddler to take a few steps back. Oswald picks up his empty glass and shatters the bowl into splinters with the stem still intact. With a menacing glare, he stocks towards Edward brandishing the makeshift weapon, waving it wildly in front of him. “I have been wronged enough times today, Edward. I don’t need the likes of you challenging me!... And in my own home!”

Edward smirks down at the little bird’s outburst, holding his hands up in front of him, slowly backing away. At least he has Oswald's attention for now. He watches the rhythm of his boyfriend's flailing arm and waits for the perfect moment to snap his hand forward and grab Oswald’s wrists. He now holds the other man's arm up in the air and away from both of their bodies. “And if I want to challenge you—” pulls Oswald into him and their chests clash together— “then I fucking will,” grunts through his pearly whites. The Mayor's face reddens in anger and Edward's heart rate picks up at the sight of each freckle on his lover’s cheeks burning brighter against the vivid shade of rage. “ANd right now, Oswald,” Edward continues his taunting. “I don’t believe there is anything you could do to stop me.”

“You just watch, Mr. Nygma,” Oswald spat out smugly and rips his wrists out from the taller man’s grasp. He charges forward, backing Edward up against the kitchen wall, laying his left hand on Edward's chest with the other holding the broken glass just under the Riddler’s chin. Oswald’s eyebrows twist down morphing the rest of his features into an even more furious expression. “I’ll make you beg for me to let you leave this room,” he says in a tone he usually reserves for someone who hasn't gained his respect.

Edward loves how his partner’s voice echoes throughout the kitchen when he’s in this murderous state. It’s all extremely exhilarating. He tries not to smirk any wider as he leans in close to his bird’s face. “Oh really?”, he says matter of factly, eyes flickering down at the Mayor’s jaw and quickly grazes his tongue across Oswald's face all the way up to his ear. Knowing that this is exactly how to wind up a flightless Arctic bird.

Oswald loathes this kind of affection when he's pissed the fuck off and quivers in response.

“I’d love to see you try,” Edward's whispers, grazing his teeth over his lover’s ear and wraps his hand around Oswald's glass wielding wrist again.

The Penguin moves his head, but he’s unable to shy away from Edward’s reach. He pushes his body against him trying to gain control, slowly winning the fight in their little game of tug-of-war, but the taller man’s grip tightens around Oswald's wrist, drilling his nails into the shorter man's skin, causing Oswald to drop his forged weapon.

“You’re not trying hard enough,” Edward whispers in his boyfriend's ear and licks him again.

Oswald steps back, pulling his arms out of the riddle man’s grip, and latches onto the lapel of his dark green suit. He then tugs Edward away from the wall and shoves him to the kitchen floor. “Are you ready to leave now!”, he barks, standing over the slim man, pointing down at him as if his lover was the most insignificant being on the face of this earth.

Edward continues holds in his expressions of delight. Oswald can’t see that this is what he wants. “You’ve done nothing, but made me pity you more.”

The Penguin’s freckled cheeks burn at their brightest and he drops down to his knees over Edward. “You've always loved a neck, didn't you?” He wraps his hands underneath Edward's chin, threatening to vacuum out the air from his lungs.

Edward fixes his gazes up at Oswald, the rage coursing through him is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He lays submissively, anticipating the sense of his breathing slowly cutting off. “Do it.” Offers his life to his lover's anger.

Oswald wastes no time to comply, squeezing his hands around Edward's delicate neck. Maybe this will finally end their senseless brawl. He watches as Edward’s wide eyes rusted and listen to his breath slowly fade out, feeling a different kind of rush sweeping over him. Along with the sensation of the cock of the man underneath him stiffening between his legs, Oswald can feel Edward's erratic pulse fluttering wildly beneath his fingers, losing himself to the sense of power coursing through his veins. Seeing Edward this way, submissive and silent, was exactly what he needed. Exactly what he ordered.

“You like it?” he muttered, almost incoherently. The hard lines of Edward's member press up against his clothed rear and he can't help but rock down against him. “Ah…”, Oswald moans, his entire body beginning to react to the hypersexual scenario. His anger fizzles and morphs into something more. “Is this what you wanted, Edward?” Grinds his ass against the Riddler’s cock and leans in forward till their noses are almost touching, warm breath fanning over his lover’s face. “Look at you, weak beneath the palm of my hand. Pathetic. You were practically begging for this, aren’t you?”

Edward's body jolts in a silent answer as he’s slowly being deprived of more oxygen, but still, he makes no move to fight back. He couldn’t even if he wanted too, his head is swimming at the feeling of the Penguin’s long fingers wrapped around the expanse of his throat and rocking against his bulging pants.

Oswald has done this before, strangling Edward was a kink for both of them and he knew exactly when to let go.

Edward drags his fingers along Oswald’s elbows and that's the instant he could feel the strength in the Mayor's fingertips weakening, color instantly returns to his face.

Oswald's hands fly away from Edward's neck and he catches the gasping man’s lips with his own. Because he gives Edward no time at all to catch his breath, this is always Oswald favorite part. Returning air to his lungs is almost like reviving his love from the welcoming arms of death.

Edward's hands grip at Oswald's hips as he gasps erratically into his mouth, breathing in the heated oxygen between them without breaking their patterned kisses. “Ah… Mmm….”, sporadic moans escape his lips, greedily consuming his lover. “Yes… Yes!”, he chants more clear. “This is exactly what I wanted.” Edward once strangled voice is now stronger and deeper with the yearning for rough sex. He dips his right hand between them and fondles Oswald's clothed package earning a hiss from the shorter man, but Oswald smacks his hand away.

“Who gave you permission to touch me?” Though he's no longer in a state of hellish rage, Oswald isn't done being the dominant one and will show Edward Nygma exactly who’s the boss.

“N-no one,” Edward forces out his words. The grinding of Oswald's hips is starting to make him lose grip of reality.  

“Ugh… Oh…”, Oswald breathes. “Then kept your damn hands to yourself.” His eyes roll back as his rasps his hips against his partner’s hardness faster, taking full advantage of the situation, earning a variety of groans from his boyfriend.

Edward lays his hands flat on the floor, keeping himself from touching his bird. He wants the powerful sensation of his hands wrapped around Oswald’s fragile neck, but this moment isn’t about him. This is for Oswald and he’s going to allow him to have his way with him. “Uhh… Ah…”, he moans with a rapture of delight sweeping over him. He arches his back and closes his eyes thinking of only this pleasure, cock throbbing wanting with every thrust of his partner.

“Open your eyes and look at me,” the little bird demands and the Riddler instantly complies. He grinds on his lover as he removes his pin-striped tailcoat, tossing it across the kitchen.

“Oh, Oswald,” Edward densely breathes, body flooding with warmth.

“Shut up!” He rips open Edward’s shirt and the buttons pop off to the floor. The rhythm of his hips quickens as the friction in their pants increase. Oswald tilts into Edward’s exposed chest, licking and biting on his flesh.

Edward suppresses his moans, releasing soft sighs every now and then, desperately keeping his hands glued to the floor. Oswald knows how much he loves to touch him and the bird is using that need against him, relishing in his position of powerful dominance over the man underneath him.

“Ah… Mmm…”, the Penguin hums just before he takes Edward’s pebbled nibble between his teeth, feeling the taller man’s body tremble to the gentle pain. He bites down on the nub between his teeth watching with an enraptured stare.

Edward winces and his eyes flutter closed before his previous demand forces him to reopen them. He watches his partner take advantage of his body, he welcomes him to do so.

Oswald thinks Edward looks beautiful like this, pleasure and pain mixing across his features, a private show made just for him. It was a sight to behold. Oswald releases Edward’s nipple, swirling his tongue around it once more before turning his attention to the neglected one. He gives it the same treatment as the one before, eyes trained on the Riddler’s face. Remarkable.

Edward's hands scratch at the floorboards in a desperate attempt to ground himself. The attention Oswald is paying his body has him weak and needy. He wants his Penguin to take him now! Make him his! Claim him as his property! Use him in any way he sees fit! Even if he had to beg for it, he wants to be Oswald's forever.

All of a sudden, strong hands grip the collar of Edward's ripped shirt and pulls him up to meet Oswald’s ferocious kiss. Edward devours the dark haired man's mouth, slipping his tongue passed the barrier of lips and teeth all in an effort to deepen the taste. Probably taking a little more control of the kiss than Oswald liked, but dammit, it was worth it. He’ll gladly take whatever punishment he's earned for this. Maybe he should see if he could get away with more? Edward tries to pull himself up into a sitting position, but it doesn't take long before his small taste of control is cut short.

Oswald pulls back from the kiss and narrows his eyes at his lover before releasing his hold on Edward's lapels, slamming the Riddler's back into the floor.

Edward feels his breath leaving his chest in a gush as his back reconnects with the hardwood. He didn't get away with much after all.

The Penguin pushes his hand against the base of Edward's throat, trailing his fingers over the straining muscles in his neck “Stay still,” Oswald upbraids, voice nothing more but a guttural rumble from within his chest.

“If I re-refuse?” Edward chokes out, still not making a single move to disobey.

The Mayor stops the movement of his hips and stares down at his lover in an arousing menace.

Edward felt heat tickle his spine as Oswald leaned down closer to his neck, all while the Penguin’s large hand reached back and found their way to Edward's pants to his neglected package.

The Riddler gasped loudly the instant his sex was touch, head craned back against the wood floor. This all feels more incredible than he imagined

Oswald’s hand fills with Edward's hardened bulge, while simultaneously biting down hard on his neck.

“Agh! Uh….”, Edward grunts, a hand uncontrollably flying to Oswald's hair and he stops himself just above touching it. He still had enough self-control not to disobey Oswald's no touching order. His hands feel like they were on fire from not being able to fondle his boyfriend's body. “Oswald, please,” he muttered, dropping his hands to the side and he weakly thrust his hips up against Oswald’s crotch, silently trying to get his bird to pick up to the heavy rhythm he once had.

“I told you to shut up!” Oswald gnarls, squeezing his partner’s cock tightly causing him to let out a suffocated bellow. Oswald strokes him fast after and Edward sees this as the perfect opportunity to frantically reach for his pant pocket. Lube. It was a small bottle he had slipped inside just before Oswald arrived home from work. Edward has come fully prepared as if he had this all scheduled and this organized behavior infuriates the Mayor. So when Edward's shaky hands attempted to open the cap, Oswald snatches it and throws it across the room, watching it slide over the kitchen floor. He should be the one to say when they're going to use it.

Edward's eyes widen, almost frightened for a fraction of a second, and he gazes up at Oswald, eyes glistening in resignation. He never thought the sight of lube would be offensive.

Oswald pushed his fingers harshly to the Riddler's soft pink lips. “Suck,” he ordered.

Edward enclosed his lips around Oswald’s finger. He didn’t have much choice with all the pressure the bird put upon his mouth to slip his digits between his silky lips. “Mmm… Mmm…” He whirls his tongue around the finger, silva coasting down his cheek.  

“So you prepare for all of this?”, Oswald hisses. He removes his finger from Edward’s mouth and coils his wet hand around his lover’s throat again. He sinks into him, lips nearly touching, piercing eyes radiating into the riddle man’s. “You can speak,” he says, heated breath tickling the other’s surface.

“Yes—” he licks his lips— “I thought  maybe….”

Oswald’s hand constricts around his neck, cutting off Edward’s words. “I didn’t ask for a fucking explanation—” the hand on his boyfriend’s package tightens along with the one under his chin— “but you shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn’t have prepared for anything.” He unclenches both hands, leaving Edward heaving for air. Oswald carefully stands above him, being mindful of his injured leg. He scowls down at the shuddering mess he’s made of Edward, thinking about what he’s going to do to make him a wreck. “Turn around,” he demands, gnarring through his teeth.

Edward slowly sits up and turns over on his hands and knees. Suddenly he feels a weight on the back of his neck, as Oswald pushes his face to the floor, keeping his rear in the air.

“I’m going to make you wish you haven’t prepared for anything,” the Penguin says thickly, letting go of the nape of Edward’s neck. He traces his fingertips down the Riddler’s spine and flips the green suit jacket over his partner’s head. The Penguin doesn’t want him to see what he’s about to do. He then slips his hand under the hem of his lover’s pants, tugging them down aggressively, breaking Edward’s belt. “Do you remember the safe word?”, he asks.

There’s always a word they use to stop the other if their sexual games go a bit too far.

Edward remains quite, still obeying the order not to talk.

“You can answer that,” Oswald adds.

“I’ll never forget it,” he answers, breathily.

“Good.” Oswald stands behind him and thunders his hand down upon Edward’s pale ass.

“Oh, shit!”, he cries, body rippling with pleasurable pain.

“Shut up!”, Oswald orders once more. “And that’s the last time I’m fucking telling you.” He crashes his hand down on Edward's ass again and rubs his cheeks to soothe the pain. “Such beautiful pale skin—” Oswald watches as the color starts blossoming over Edward's  cheeks— “but it won't stay that way for long.” A chuckle sounds escapes from his throat as he brings his hand down again, smacking it solidly against the unmarked cheek.

Edward squirms after the first two brutal hits, knowing much more were likely to follow. Beneath the cover of his jacket, he bites into the flesh of his forearm to save from calling out as the Mayor’s hand meets his rear once more. Twice more.

“You shouldn’t have made those assumptions, Edward, thinking ahead like that. Assuming I’d want you tonight was a mistake—” the sounds of Oswald's hits echo within the walls of the kitchen, bouncing back at them as he continues on with his movements— “when all I wanted was a little peace after my clusterfuck of a day.” The Penguin finds himself unconsciously opening up as he took his aggression out on his lover. “You don't what I've been through.” He’s always confided in him, but he was not in a mood to verbally express his feeling. Today he wants to act them out. “You don't know!”, Oswald roars, taking another slap on Edward’s cheek again, the skin darkening before him. How dare Edward be so presumptuous to think he wanted his body today.

The idea of Edward's planning to make love is merely insignificant, but he uses it to file his rage.

“Did you have a hand in all that befell upon me today? Planning on me to fuck you is proof that you knew I was going to return home in such a crossed state. I know you like your games, Mr. Nygma—” snarls his boyfriend name in the foulest way— “how you like to manipulate people into doing what you want. Well I won’t be so easily fooled!”, Oswald says and hits Edward with the tenth strike on his rear. “I think it’s about time—” cocks a right brow— “I played a game of my own.”

Edward’s eyes widened more and he feels his lips curling up into a smile. God, he would let Oswald do whatever he likes to him if he keeps making him feel like this. Yes, Oswald could do anything. Make him do anything. Call him anything.

Oswald bends down to the coat covering Edward's head and whispers on the side of his face. “Here’s the game, Edward….”

The Riddler whimpered at the hot breath against his cheek and he writhed under the firm grip his partner had on the bare cheek of his ass.

“You make one sound,” Oswald continues. “Even a gasp, I’m not going to let you crawl over there and get that bottle of lube.” He gestures vaguely to where the bottle had been thrown. “This won’t take long, but I want to see if you can stand it. I doubt you can.”

A challenge. This only made Edward want to play the game more. He knew in the back of his mind they would use the lube either way, but the lube isn't what the game is about. This game is spawned from a deeper, primal, state. “Try me,” Edward sneered and Oswald smirked in response.

The Mayor returns to his position behind Edward and pushes his cheeks part, then submerges his face, circling his tongue around Edward's pulsing ring of nerves.

Edward was beginning to losing himself, but he holds his ground. He bites his lip feeling an inkling of blood, desperate not to make a sound. Not a single one. He had to prove Oswald wrong.

Oswald flicks his tongue around the brim of Edward’s opening, tasting the soap from the Ridder’s bath when he had prepared himself for the Penguin’s arrival home.

He truly was ready for anything today. Damn. What a fucking bastard. How the hell does he do this?

Oswald stiffens his muscle and sinks it inside, feeling Edward’s walls pulsing around his tongue. He penetrates his tight little hole before closing his lips to kiss and blow heated air on his lover’s simulated rosy skin.  

The Riddler’s body tenses and quivers under the cloak of his suit jacket, urgently trying not to cry out or pull away from Oswald. The sensation is driving him closer to the edge, his aching manhood throbs for attention.

Oswald smacks his hand on Edward’s cheeks once again and separates them wider, spreading him thin, burrowing his face nose deep. “Mmm,” he vibrates against the surface, saliva dribbling from the corners of his mouth. The warmth and dampness within those cheeks are unlike anything else and Oswald could be between them all day, but there are more levels in their game that the Riddler must pass.

He sits up from Edward’s split, licking his lips and dries his glistening chin. “You like that, didn’t you?”, he asks, caressing and squeezing his boyfriend’s blushing round end. “You didn’t even make a sound.” Stands to his feet. “I guess you can be obedient.” Oswald rests the bottom of his black and white studded shoes on Edward’s bare ass and gives him a shove. “Go get the bottle,” he orders. “I guess you’ve earned it.”

Edward frees his sight from the cover of his jacket and crawls on all fours to search the kitchen floor for the bottle of lubrication Oswald had tossed away. He finds it against the floorboard by the dishwasher, takes it in his hands and crawls back to his lover. He stops before Oswald’s feet and gazes up at him, hair disheveled, glasses crooked on his nose, bottom lip stained with drying blood, pants around his thighs. Edward looks nothing like the perfectly groomed man that once entered the kitchen. Though he won’t say it at the moment, Oswald still thinks he’s beautiful.

“Stand up,” the Penguin says harsh and Edward follows his command. He snatches the bottle from the riddle man and swiftly cups the nape of his neck, drawing the taller man into him, consuming his lips and shares the taste of them with him.

“Ah…” Edward lets out a sigh and melds into the kiss, but he doesn’t touch Oswald. He still hasn’t received the permission.

The birdie abruptly breaks off their heated connection and bends Edward over the island counter in the middle of the kitchen. “I know you haven’t had enough—” fists his hand in his dark brown hair, grinding the front of his pants between the Ridder’s crack, rigid cock twitching from the friction— “I’m gonna make sure you get enough and beyond that.” He flicks the cap of the small bottle open and slickens his fingers, coating them well before regrettably removing himself from between the Riddler’s ass cheeks. Oswald pushes his head down onto the counter with his free hand and holds him there by the nape of the neck as his wet digits circle Edward’s entrance, fluttering over the tight ring of muscle in a teasing manner. “Do you have any idea what I want to do to this ass of yours, Ed? It’s practically calling out to me, begging to eat my fingers.” The Penguin leans down to swipe his tongue over his lover’s entrance once more, tasting the lube mixed with his boyfriend's own personal flavor before biting into the pink flesh of his rear. “I’m going to make certain you can’t walk tomorrow.” He grumbles against his heated skin as he presses the tip of his index finger past the tight ring of muscle, entering his boyfriend’s body.

Edward could hardly breathe under the Mayor’s touch, his body hypersensitivity to all the sensations that his experiencing. His cock bobs as it hangs thickly between his legs, still untouched but calling for attention. The Riddler swallows his moans, uncertain of the other man’s reaction should he let them loose.

“Come on, Edward—” Oswald pushes his finger in past the knuckles— “don’t go holding back your sounds from me now. I want to hear you scream.” He searches out for the bundle of nerves deep within his body, pressing a firm finger against it when he locates it with expert ease. He has been inside his boyfriend's body enough times to know where everything lies.

“Oh Os!”, Edward says before finally allowing a moan to slip from between his lips. “Os-Oswald… more, pleeease!”, he begged as his boyfriend adds a second finger, stretching him open even wider.

“Oh Edward, look at you. Your body is just swallowing my fingers down like the whore that you are….. Admit it, whore, why else would you prepare yourself this way. It's like you couldn't live without it.” Oswald twists his fingers inside. “You've thought about this all day.”

“I prepare myself for you every day,” Edward keened through his teeth, closing his hands into taut fists. He sounds like he was in pain, but that's exactly what he wants.

Oswald smirked at his remark, freckled skin reddening. “I fucking knew it. You are a whore for me,” he hisses, slapping Edward's rear violently and immediately puts his hand back on the nape of Edward's neck, keeping him held in place.

The Riddler jolts, crying out in agonized bliss. “Yes!”

“I want you to beg for it!”, the Penguin growls. “Plead for me to fuck you senseless.” He pushes down harder on the back of Edward's neck, stretching his face on the surface of the smooth granite countertop which it was being pushed against.

Edward's cock strained below him and he whimpered unable to reply to Oswald's demands. “Uh…. nng.” He twists and turns as Oswald’s fingers dipped deeper inside.

It almost feels like he has shoved his entire hand within Edward, but Oswald hasn't. The riddle man isn't stretched enough for that.

Edward can feel himself losing all his sense of reality as his body is opened wider than it's ever been. “P-p-please fuck me.”

“That isn’t begging!” Oswald snapped, instantly removes his hand from Edward's gaping hole and rips off the rest of his lover’s clothing, tossing them to the floor. Oswald then scraped his manicured nails down Edward's pale back, leaving long dark tracks on the surface of his flesh, blood threatening to flow from the markings.

The Riddler’s head flips up as he arches his back to the short-lived pain. “Oh god!”

“That's right—” Oswald stuffs three slick fingers back inside Edward with a twist of his wrist— “I am God.” Pumps his hand within those scratched and bruised cheek. “But I don't hear you begging for me, Mr. Nygma!”, he spits.

“Please, please, Oswald, my God, you’re in charge…. I’m your whore….. Please just touch me…… Fuck me….. Rip me…..  I need you now!.”

“Do better than that!”, Oswald orders, as Edward, rolls his hips against his hand, helping absorb the impact of his penetration.

“Touch me, my God!” Edward shouts, spasming as Oswald hits his prostate hard with his curled fingers.

Oswald abuses Edward’s bundle of nerves— again, and again, and again with no end— relishing in the songs of pleasure his riddle man is singing. Not giving into anything he’s fucking begging.

“Ah… My God—” Edward pants feverishly between words— “please touch me. I ache for you…. I long for you… I’m your fucking whore!” Edward’s face burns red with an uncontrollable desire, wanting to pick himself up from the counter, push Oswald to the floor and ride his cock till it feels like breaking off. Even then, he wouldn’t stop. But that isn’t the scenario of their current predicament and Edward must hold out until Oswald finally decides to bestow release upon him. “Please, my God, please touch my cock,” he continues to plea. “I’ll -- I’ll do anything for you…. I would -- would kill for you….. Let me fucking touch myself!” His hands scratch and claw at the granite countertop, but nothing gives him the satisfaction he craves between his legs.

Oswald removes his hand from Edward’s ass and slathers it with more lubrication before vigorously entering his partner’s greedy hole with three thick, slick, digits again.

“Oh, fuck!”, Edward roars, tears of delight and pain roll down his cheek.

“You are a whore, aren’t you?”, Oswald asks with a chuckle tickling the back of his throat, pumping his hand within Edward’s ass. In and out. Knuckles deep. In and back out. The smacking sound of his hand’s intense movements echoed throughout the large kitchen filling both of their ears with a symphony of their inflamed passions. Oswald smirks at the sight of Edward’s sweat-misted body quivering and yearning for his sex to receive much-needed attention. Absolutely stunning. He’s the only person in the world that can leave Edward Nygma panting and completely destroyed.  

“Y-yes, my God, I’m -- I’m a f-fucking whore. I’m your…. slut,” the Riddler quickly replies, hard cock slamming against the side of the counter with every powerful thrust Oswald’s hand takes between the cheeks of his bruised round end. But even that isn’t enough. He needs soft, warm, hands massaging his manhood— or a damp, hot, mouth around it. “Ah… Ah… Ah… Ah!” He doesn’t hold back the volume of his moans, knowing that this is what Oswald wants to hear now. “Oh, Oswald!”

Oswald removes his fingers from Edward’s pulsating pucker without warning and grapples onto his bare waist, digging his nails into his sides, crashing his body repeated against Edward’s ass. “Uh… Uh!,” he aggressively grunts, dry fucking the shit out of his tall, riddle loving, whore. Letting out more of his built up rage from his day. “Fuck you!”

Edward never thinks to say the safe word. He can take anything Oswald has to give. Releasing the bird of his anger is exactly what Mr. Nygma wants.

“You better not cum—” the Mayor swiftly yanks down his pants and his thick dripping cock flops out from the pin-striped prison— “until I fucking tell you,” snarls animalistic. “You better not cum!”

“Y-yes, my G-g-god,” Edward stutters, heated body lightly fluttering with overstimulation.

Oswald picks up the small bottle of lubricant and squeezes the last of its contents into his palm before rubbing it all over his swollen length. His greedy eyes are trained on Edward’s gaping hole, all stretched open calling for him, as he tugs himself a few more times than necessary, unable to stop the movement of his hand. “I am not going to be gentle, Edward, but you're a whore so you should be used to this.”

“Please do it,” Edward retorts and without any further warning, the Penguin grabs perch on the Riddler’s hips.

Oswald digs his black painted nails into Edward's side and thrusts himself deep within his lover with one vigorous thrust. Though Edward’s open has been stretched he still feels tight around Oswald's wet head.

“Fuck—” Edward screams as the force pushes him further up against the counter, heavy cock now trapped and pressed against the cupboards before him “—ah… Oswald.” He can barely get his bearings as his boyfriend draws back and slams forward, setting a brutal pace that Edward wasn’t quite sure he would survive.

This rough play is the best way to relieve Oswald of his frustrations. He needed Edward to beg to be fucked, to be taken, to be stretched wide so all he could think about for the next few days was him. Oswald craved it. He yearned for such power and now he fucking has it.  

The Penguin drives forward battering the small bundle of nerves relentlessly. "Ugh…. Ugh….” Every buck causes him to moan.

Edward's eyes are closed tightly behind crooked glasses as his face rests on the granite bench panting, gasping and wailing all the while, a small puddle of saliva forms below him. Edward Nygma is wrecked. “Oswald, p-p-please touch me,” the Riddler breathed out almost incoherently, pushing back against the other man’s next thrust. His cock ached with no end in sight, needing to come, needing his hand wrapped around him or at least the permission to do so. “P-p-please, my God, I, ah…I can't.” Edward manages to stutter out again between a seemingly endless stream of moans. Beads of sweat line the Riddler's forehead, small tendrils of hair curling and clinging to his damp skin. His body vibrating under each snap of the Mayor’s hips.

“You can—” Oswald crashes against Edward's ass— “and you fucking will,” he snarls out in a gravelly voice. “Don’t you fucking disappoint me, whore.” His grip tightens in warning before moving his hands to the heated flesh of Edward's rear. Oswald separates the cheeks, watching as his cock slides in and out of his boyfriend with an unobstructed view. The erotic sight sends volts trickling down his spine. “Fuck,” he hisses from behind clenched teeth, injured knee buckling a little before he corrects his stance.

Edward let out an obscene moan as Oswald’s hard thrusts faltered. Oswald was getting close, but that wasn’t stopping him from slamming into Edward from behind over and over again, cock glistening with pre-cum and lube, hitting Edward faster than he could catch his breath.

“Please!”, the Riddler squealed, fingertips turning white against the island countertop.

Oswald feels a sudden surge of strength and slowed his pace before removing his dripping rod. He lifts Edward's shoulder from the counter and swerves his body around to face him. Their eyes lock onto each other for a moment, faces saturated with sweat, admiring the raw passion coursing through them. Oswald breaks their connection and ignores every sense trying to stop him from what's he's about to do. He grips Edward by the cheeks of his ass and lifts him in mid-air, wrapping Edward's long legs around him. With a shift of his hips, Oswald guides his cock back inside, thrusting up into the Riddler’s nerves again. “You can touch me now,” he says in a guttural tone, voice is still coated with a fiery harshness.

Edward buries his wet nose into Oswald's neck, breathing in his scent, as he's being fucked off the floor. Never has he been in Oswald's arms this way. He could get used to such attention. “Oh, my God—” he exhaled into the side of Oswald's neck, digging his fingers into his lover's back— “you make me fly.”

Oswald’s surprised for a moment that he could even hold Edward up like this, but with his Chief of Staff’s long arms and legs wrapped around his neck and torso like a lanky koala, helps him to control his balance for now. Oswald's adrenaline is off the charts at the moment and he feels as though he could fly as well if he fucked Edward a little bit harder. Maybe they could reach the heavens together. Oswald melds into Edward, gripping tightly at the skin that stretched over his spine.

The slapping sound in the kitchen echoed, as Edward suddenly bits at Oswald’s lip needily; tears edging his eyes likely from the intensity of pleasure alone. “P-p-please touch me,” his soft pink lips whispered against Oswald's shoulder. He had screamed, begged and cried out for Oswald to touch his center, but now he pleas in a precious whisper he hoped that his lover wouldn’t refuse, even though Oswald was still boiling over with incredulous rage.

When Edward lifts his head from the crook of Oswald's neck, the Penguin pushes his forehead firmly against Edward's and reached down, not halting his thrusts, to rub a thumb over the head of his boyfriend's leaking cock, finally giving his whore the touch he craved.

Edward attempts to maintain eye contact with Oswald, but the minute his partner touched him just right, he was lost and his eyes squeezed shut feeling his own impending release. “S-shit,” he groaned, high pitched and hoarse, allowing himself fall on Oswald’s cock and moves his hips around wildly. “Please…. Ah…. let me come.” He pressing his forehead against Oswald’s harder, feeling his hot breath on his own.

“No,” Oswald speaks harshly.

Edward whined, gripping tightly at his partner’s shoulder blades. “Please, my God, I b-b-beg of you,” he spammers yet again, feeling all the energy draining out of him. He doesn't know how much longer he can help keep himself up.

The immediate strength that arose through Oswald is starting to be outweighed by the pain shooting down his twisted leg. So he relieves himself from the extra weight by slamming Edward down on the counter, cock gliding out in the process. “I bet you liked that,” Oswald breathes, taking a step back from Edward. “Whores tend to like that kind of thing.”

The Riddler reaches out to Oswald, a little confused by the need to stop. The pace was good, the energy between them was out of this world and he finally got some attention to his cock. Why the fuck would Oswald stop now?

The Penguin strikes Edward’s hand away. “Don’t even start to think that I’m done with you yet,” he says and limps to the other side of the kitchen.

Edward sits on the counter, ass glazed with lubrication, watching his boyfriend collect a deep heavy stock pot from under the counter and carries it back. The Riddler smirks, instantly knowing what the pot is for. “You needed a step-”

“Shut up,” Oswald barks, laying the pot bottom side up and steps on top, coming face to face with the 6 foot tall Mr. Nygma. Sitting Edward on the counter made him a little too high to reach, but now they’re both at the perfect level. “I don’t need you to say it.”

“I already forgot—” leans into Oswald with a toothy grin and they both share a smile in this surprisingly tender moment— “what I was going to say,” Edward replies, cupping the back of Oswald’s neck and draws him into him. He kisses his lover, rekindling the intense flame between them, taking off the rest of the little birdie’s clothes. It feels so, so, good to finally touch Oswald freely. Edward thinks he has the finest skin he’s ever felt and the most beautiful. The freckles peppering Oswald’s flesh are like a cluster of stars. He could spend a day counting every single one.

Oswald’s hands slide down to the small of Edward’s back and he pushes him closer to the edge of the counter. He takes hold of himself, pumping his hand up and down the shaft before teasing Edward’s gaping hole, tracing the tip around the brim of his opening.

“Mmm… Fuck,” Edward mutters onto Oswald’s lips. He can’t take much more of the constant teasing, already on the brink of plummeting over the edge.

“You like it slow—” Oswald softly kisses Edward’s lustrous lips, catching his bottom lip sweetly between his own— “and gentle, don’t you?” Eases his cock all the way inside his boyfriend’s warm pulsating hole, feeling the taller man’s muscle compressing around his thickness. There’s no other sensation like it in the world. So tight. So slick around his unyielding rod.

“Ah,” Edward moans, fisting his hands in Oswald raven locks, wrapping his legs around the other man’s petite frame. “Yes.”

The Penguin takes several smooth trusts within Edward, giving him a gentler ride.

“Oh, yes, my God.” He buries his face in his heated damp neck, breathing in the scent of Oswald’s cologne mixed with the musk of sex and sweat. Heaven.

“Well that’s not what whores get,” Oswald snarls before slamming Edward’s back into the hard granite counter top, fucking his lover like a crazed animal.

“Ah… S-s-shit!” Edward cries, grabbing onto the end of the counter just above his head, anchoring himself to take the robust plunges of Oswald’s hips.

The Penguin securely holds on to Edward’s waist, watching his partner’s cock thrash against his stomach over and over with every hard drive he takes. Pre-cum glistens and drips from the tip, running down the surface of Edward’s hard cock, pooling on his abdomen. The sight the Riddler’s sexual nectar is irresistible to Oswald and his yearning to touch Edward’s center becomes unbearable. He gives into his desires, enveloping his right hand around Edward’s engorged neglected manhood.

“Yes! Yes!”, The Riddler shouts, arching his back, finally receiving the touch he’s desperately craved. What a rush of relief from the painful throbbing. He could cum right now if it wasn’t for the order not too. Fuck.

Oswald rams his hips, driving his rigid cock balls deep into Edward, filling him up to the max. He jacks the Riddler’s length from hilt to redden tip, coating the shaft with sticky pre-cum. The man underneath begins to lose all self-control, body vibrating, heavy balls twitching. Edward is using every bit of his willpower not to cum and this is exactly what the little angry bird wanted to witness. The site is so pure that it’s absolutely dazzling.  

“Uh… Uh…” Edward groans with great passion behind tightly closed eyes, pressure coiled up throughout his enter sweaty body. “I’m -- I’m gonna—" he blurts out, panting and breathing sporadically— “cum!”

“No, you fucking won’t!” Oswald crashes into his lover with an even more intense dicking. Didn’t think he had it in him to go any harder, but he does. Edward’s ass and thighs burn redder with each hit of their connection and the hollow slapping of two bodies grows louder. Oswald’s thighs burn in a blazing glory as he surprisingly managed to continue on with his quick-paced movements. His brutal thrusts driving himself deeper and deeper into the saturated heat of his boyfriend’s channel. “Fuck, Edward,” he groaned as he leaned forward to bite at the unmarked skin, leaving behind bright red indents.

The pot Oswald is currently standing on slides about underneath him, squeaking against the floor, scratching the dark wooden boards. But he paid it no mind as he was too focus chasing his impending release. It should, and continues, to hold firm.

The Penguin peered down between their bodies, watching his cock disappear into his lover, the view partially obstructed by the straining cock and tightened testicles that hugged close to the other man’s body. “Hold yourself up,” Oswald ordered, the words spat through clenched teeth as sweat trickled down his face, small salty beads dripping off of his pointed nose onto the Riddler’s inner thigh.

But Edward makes no move to do as he asked, seemingly too lost in a haze of pleasure.

Oswald halts his movements drawing a needy whine from the Riddlers mouth. “I said… Hold. Yourself. Up,” he growls punctuating the words with three firm thrusts. “If you want even a chance of gaining your release you will do as your God commands.”

Edward nods fervently, removing his grip from the counter above his head and unwraps his legs from around Oswald's waist, bending his knees to lay his bare feet flat on the surface. With his arms down at his sides, long fingers wrap over the edge of the countertop under his thighs and he uses the strength of his arm as an anchor to lift his hips from the counter, taking the ordered position. This new stance tightens Edward's opening around Oswald penetrating manhood.

The Mayor uses what little strength that still retains within him to stop them both from crashing to the ground, as he fucks his whore’s narrow entry. “Ugh, Ed….” In the new angle, Oswald hits Edward's pleasure center each and every time he lunges inside of him.

Edward’s vision blanks and his fingers whiten as they clammer for perch on the sweat-slickened bench. Elongating his neck he tips it back, strangling gasps leaving his reddened throat.

“Eyes on me.”

And with the new order, the Riddler snaps his head forward, weakened muscles unable to holds his head straight and it rolls to the side, resting on his shoulder. Edward peers at him through dark eyelashes, struggling to keep his eyes open.

Oswald removes a hand from his lover’s hips and wraps it around the taller man’s length, still slickened with the pre-cum that leaks out of the reddened tip like a broken faucet. Using the natural lubrication to assist his movements, the Penguin tugs him from bottom to tip, trying to sync the action with every thrust of his hips, and the wet tunnel pulsating around him.  Edward was close.

“Please, my God, I—” Ed let out a choked cry. His arms shook as exhaustion settles deep inside him— “I don't… I can’t.”

The Mayor looks at the state of his boyfriend, wrecked and thoroughly fucked, unable to speak simple sentences and decides to grant his desperate whore his release. “Cum, Edward.”

Edward begins to buck wildly when Oswald presses his thumb against the frenulum on the underside of his cock. The Riddler all but screams into the room. “F-fuck!” His body stiffens with the last few thrusts from Oswald and the combination of his touch triggers his orgasm. And now with permission, Edward finally let’s go of the control he has been struggling to hold onto and allows his release to wash over him. He cums hard and strong into the Penguin’s hand, scattering it with his white creamy seed. “Thank you, my God!”

Oswald's hand moves faster over his spasming cock, milking every drop of cum from his body, accepting his whore’s offering which is spewing all over his body. “Yes!”, he yelps, feeling Edward’s tight hole pulsate around him. Oswald bucks his hips erratically, burrowing himself inside his lover as he chases his own ecstasy. But in his haste, he miscalculates his movements, all too focused on trying to make himself one with the other man, and the large soup pot beneath his feet skids forward, smashing into the counter. “Ahhh!” he cried out, almost bloodcurdling. The Penguin’s height advantage is all but gone. His twitching cock,  which was just on the verge of orgasming deep with Edwards hungry hole, slips free from its wet home as he falls crashing to the floor. The Riddler tumbles down after him in a bizarre human domino effect.

Oswald lets out another yelp as the weight of Edward pins him to the ground, forcing every molecule of air out of his lungs.

Immediately rising off the smaller man's body, Edward was dazed as to what happened, but he knew he had fallen on Oswald and needed to move instantly. His mind is clouded in an orgasmic bliss but snaps back into the reality of the situation when he quickly peered down at the Oswald, finally getting a clear view of the damage. His hands flurry over Oswald's body checking over his little bird to make sure he was uninjured. “Did you…?” His words trail off, noticing Oswald's straining member still standing at attention. Unable to keep the thought of how gorgeous it was out of his mind.

“No,” Oswald says simply, hiding the pain that tried to escape with his answer, resting one hand steadily on Edward's soft hip. His back felt like it had been smashed against pavement several times and he didn’t dare move to see if he had fractured a bone. They crashed onto the wood floor, hard.

Edward sits on his knees at the right side of Oswald and decided to change his position. After making sure his lover was alright, he saw no reason to keep him at the edge of cumming. Edward straddles back of on top of his boyfriend rolls his backside against Oswald’s painfully hard erection. “Ah… Ooo....”, he bites his bottom lip, leering lustfully down at his lover, getting him back in the mood. He holds Oswald's cock between the slippery crack of his ass and grinds against him making sure that Oswald does not enter him. Now it's his turn to tease.

The man beneath grunts feeling an overwhelming surge of pleasure, unable to take back his control, so he enjoys the ride.

“Does this please you?”, Edward asks.

Oswald breathes. He can't find the words to reply.

Edward knows exactly what his silence meant and knows exactly how to treat his God. He's going to serve him properly.

The Riddler crawls downwards on all fours, as Oswald took a sharp breath with relief that the weight was lifted off his chest. “I’ll have to rectify all of this for you,” Edward whispers seductively and takes the entirety of Oswald’s length between his moist warm lips in seconds.

Oh …god that fucking mouth.

Despite the pain that shot through him, which melded into sick pleasure, Oswald arched his back. He was desperate to fill this whore’s mouth.

Edward hummed around him and then dipped his long fingers between to fondle Oswald’s balls which made his man writhe around until he was spilling his heavy load into Edward's welcoming mouth. “Mmm….” The Riddler hum as Oswald’s cum slides down his throat. “Delicious,” he murmurs on the tip of his lover's shaft before placing a kiss on the head.

Oswald was on the brink of orgasm when they fall to the floor and it didn't take long for him to reach the heavenly feeling he had been chasing after. He felt the remaining rage and spite leave his body with the warm fluid that Edward had drunk like liquid sugar.

The riddle man kicks off all that drips out and swallows, making sure to suck the cock deeply once he was sure his boyfriend was finished.

Oswald didn't think to warned Edward ahead of time that he was coming. They were playing a game and he knows how much Edward loved the taste of him. Why would he deny his whore such a surprise?

After a moment, Oswald attempts to move, but in his post-orgasmic haze, he didn’t think about how badly his bruises would ache.  “Ugh…Ed,” He leans back on the floor, cursing himself and absent-mindedly reaching for his boyfriend. His time of playing God is over.

“Can you move?” Edward questioned, concerned. He can tell by the look on Oswald's face that the game was over and that his lover was in real pain. He rubbed his hand together to warm them and massages Oswald’s bad leg in soothing, gentle, rotations. Then brushes Oswald’s hair off his forehead afterward. “Barely,” he sighed and gives Oswald a quizzical look, eyeing him up and down. If looks could kill, he'd be dead.

Oswald stared at his gorgeous jaw as it clenched in a thought of what to do next, he couldn’t help but grin at Edward. He didn’t understand what his lover was doing when he wrapped one arm under Oswald's torso and then under his legs, scooping the Penguin up into the air. Oh goodness, he was carrying him. Despite just coming down from the high of sex itself, Oswald’s face is completely red. “E-Ed! Put me down!”, he orders, but his days of being in complete control over Edward were over. For now.

“Would you rather have a wheelchair,” Edward snarks back. “I’m just bringing you to the couch, calm fucking down.” He kisses Oswald's freckled nose and the shorter man huffed, crossing his arms in indignation.

“I’m not exactly decent—” the Mayor rolls of his eyes— "and neither are you.” He had no idea how Edward could carry him so easily after their rough time together, but yet his arms felt so strong under his body.

“This is your house, Oswald, you should be able to walk around naked if you wanted too.” Edward's lips moved fast as they entered the hall leading to the living room.

“Our house,” Oswald corrected, “And what about Olga…”

“I gave her the day off,” he replied with a smile like a borderline criminal.

Oswald stared up at him for a moment and felt the light shine on his skin as the entered the heavily windowed living quarters. He chuckled, the phrase suddenly registering. “You bastard.”

Edward cocked his head to the left, accepting the curse as praise. He rests his boyfriend down on their couch and snuggles up beside him, draping the blanket that was hanging on the back of the couch over the both of them. Edward focused on the smile painting Oswald’s face. It was the brightest thing in the room. All the anger and range that once filled his little bird is nonexistent, and he knows he can get him to talk. “Can I assume that you’re feeling better now, my love?” he questioned, snaking an arm around Oswald's underneath the cotton blanket.

“Yes I am—” he lays his head on Edward's chest— “and I want to thank you for helping me take all of that out. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn’t.”

“You don't have to thank me—” Edward kisses his boyfriend softly on the brow— “just talk to me.”

“Okay, well…..”

Oswald reveals to Edward about what had turned his day upside down and Edward attentively listens to every word.


End file.
